


Act As If

by afterthefair



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Romance Novel, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-15
Updated: 2008-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthefair/pseuds/afterthefair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bored during hiatus, Ryan and Spencer take a roadtrip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act As If

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot thank my betas enough - insipid_paragon read this as I wrote it, frausorge constantly reassured me, ignipes gave wonderful, thorough comments, and lovelypoet gave a much-needed final readthrough.
> 
> Written for Bandom Big Bang 2008.

Jon has a way of asking questions that makes Ryan see ten or twenty possibilities open up in front of him, instead of shutting things down to one possible answer.

They’re on the phone, idly playing guitars and singing random lyrics back and forth to each other even though it never works well over speakerphone. Something about the fourth or fifth day off after touring always makes Ryan want to reconnect, and he’s been bothering Jon and Brendon at least once a day. His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Spencer yelling from another room, telling him to “put the fucking milk back in the fridge for once, Ryan. What am I, your nanny?”

Jon can barely talk through his laughter. “Are you staying with him now?”

“No. I’m just here a lot. Dude, you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I always knew you’d eventually end up living with him. Is this a thing now? Are you finally consummating your love?” Jon pauses and when he starts speaking again, his voice is more serious, almost contemplative. “I mean, seriously, you’ve known each other forever. It must have come up at least once.” Jon’s question comes out of nowhere, but it’s not like he’s the first person to ask.

“Well, yeah. Of course it’s come up. We’ve been together forever.”

“ _Together_ , Ryan?” 

“Shut the fuck up, you know what I mean. We’ve both thought about it before, it would be weird if we didn’t. But it just — didn’t happen.” His guitar is out of tune, just enough to make him notice and bother him. He fiddles with it while Jon keeps talking.

“Do you regret it? You know each other better than anyone else does, that’s gotta be kind of… tempting, maybe?”

He looks up, distracted from the guitar by the absurdity of the question. “Yeah, I’ve been eluding Spencer’s seductive grasp all these years.” He smiles at the phone, as if Jon can see him.

It’s kind of ridiculous, but he’s a little surprised Jon hasn’t brought it up before. Brendon did, back in the beginning when he didn’t have enough experience with them to realize that their closeness wasn’t what it sometimes looked like. Not that Brendon had much room to talk, when he attached himself to everyone in sight before settling into his year-long phase of gluing himself to Ryan.

Despite their few fumbling tries at making out years ago, locked in Spencer’s room in the few hours between the end of school and his parents getting home from work, it just never seemed like a good option. Out of all of his relationships, it’s pretty clear that the one with his best friend would be the worst one to fuck up.

Jon has gone entirely quiet. 

Ryan prompts him. “Dude, what are you thinking?”

“I do get it. I know what it’s like to have no boundaries or personal space. But, dude, I lived out of a van with three other guys and I never once felt the need to do half the stuff you and Spencer do. I mean, I love Tom, but my head’s never been anywhere near his crotch, you know? And I get the whole ’fuck people who have problems with the way I express my masculinity’ thing, but like, I think people are generally pretty picky about stuff like that, no matter what their gender is.” 

“It’s just not like that. And, hey, you’ve known us for like three years, why do you care now? You never ask why I didn’t hook up with Brendon.”

“That’s a different situation. And Brendon has already given me a lecture on it.” Jon sighs. “You and Spencer, though, I don’t know. I think it’s that you’ve both been with someone most of the time I’ve known you. It’s kind of like,” he pauses and Ryan can hear the laughter in his voice when he speaks again, “when you had girlfriends I didn’t notice that you also had a boyfriend.” 

Ryan refuses to respond and Jon can’t hold in his laughter.

It’s really ridiculous in that way that most Jon-logic is, like he has to work out every crazy thought he has by inflicting them on other people. It’s a lot more charming when they’re both high than it is now.

“I’m changing the subject now.” Ryan doesn’t wait for Jon to assent. “You’re an asshole, by the way.” 

Jon laughs louder than before.

_________________

Two weeks after they come off of tour, Ryan loses his laptop. He realizes this during family dinner time at the Smith house, and spends a few minutes silently freaking out about it, trying to remember where it could be. Spencer kicks him under the table, jolting him back into the conversation.

“I have no idea where my laptop is,” Ryan says plaintively.

Spencer looks up towards the ceiling for a moment, like he’s trying to remember, before looking back at Ryan and saying, “Probably in my guest room. Where you always leave it.”

Ginger turns to Ryan. “Are you staying with Spencer now? Honey, you only get so much time away from him. You should take advantage of it. It’s done wonders for us.” She smiles sweetly at Spencer, who rolls his eyes and scowls back at her.

“Mom, you know Ryan’s fragile. If I don’t keep him in sight he’s liable to get into trouble.”

Ryan kicks him in the ankle.

It’s just the two of them and Spencer’s parents tonight. Crystal and Jackie had done the hugs and I-missed-yous exactly one time after they got back, before managing to wiggle out of any sort of family interaction. Ryan and Spencer are just homesick enough that they’ve shown up dutifully a couple times since they got back. They can’t really resist the lure of food cooked somewhere other than a bus microwave.

“I don’t see why you don’t just move in permanently. Spencer has that huge house all to himself.”

Spencer laughs. “Yeah, Mom, I’m all alone. Ryan and I can save each other from a life of lonely bachelorhood.”

It actually doesn’t sound like that bad of an idea, as far as Ryan’s concerned, but he lets the subject drop. Jeff asks about Brendon and Jon and Pete, of all people, so Ryan jumps back into the conversation.

When they leave, they end up carrying more food than they can eat in a week. Spencer whines about getting fewer hugs from his own parents than Ryan gets, and Ginger just squeezes Ryan harder. Back when he was a teenager, Ginger had always given the impression of being two steps away from telling Ryan that he could move in with them permanently, any time he wanted to. She never said anything specific, like she was afraid it would break the fragile balance they had of Ryan dropping by with a duffel bag, acting as casual as he could while Spencer threw out a, “hey, Mom, Ryan’s staying for a while, okay?”

Once they’re back at Spencer’s house, Ryan collapses on the couch and hands over the Tupperware containers he’s holding to Spencer as he passes on his way to the kitchen. Spencer stops and looks down at him, challenging, but Ryan simply looks up at him, eyes wide and looking as sad as he can manage. Spencer scowls and grabs the food, putting it down so he can smack Ryan in the back of the head, and then picking it back up to take into the next room.

By the time he makes it back, Ryan has found the remote control and is flipping through channels, settling on Sundance. He finds a documentary about pop art and stretches out fully on the couch. Spencer shoves Ryan over to make room for himself, making him sit up. Ryan curls around him, nuzzling his head into Spencer’s neck and breathing heavily against him until Spencer laughs. Spencer jiggles his shoulder up and down to dislodge him, so Ryan scoots back and puts his head in Spencer’s lap, snuggling in. Spencer sighs and flicks him in the forehead, before giving in and paying attention to the TV.

“We’re the most boring rock stars in the world. You realize that, right? We never used to be this bad.” Spencer buries his hand in Ryan’s hair and pulls gently. “We’ll probably be in bed by midnight, after our exciting evening of TV and dinner with my parents.”

“If it makes you feel better, I slipped out while you and your dad were busy with the dishes and did a line of coke off of a stripper’s ass.” He manages to keep a straight face even as Spencer scowls and tugs harder on his hair. He should probably get a haircut before Spencer gets used to communicating his displeasure this way.

He turns on Spencer’s leg to face the TV again, resting back into the softness of Spencer’s stomach. When he starts to doze, Spencer pushes him off the couch onto the floor and sends him to bed.

_________________

Ryan has pretty much given up on being amused by outside sources and nestled himself into one of Spencer’s other guest rooms with three guitars. They orbit each other for a while, Spencer going about whatever it was he did when they weren’t out on tour (maybe organizing his sock drawer or making a ten-year plan) but more and more often, Spencer drops down onto the floor next to him and watches him work. His hand usually comes to rest at the small of Ryan’s back, and Ryan’s getting used to the solid warmth, like a brand.

Spencer finds him one day, sitting on the floor with his phone, telling Jon the story of losing his laptop at Spencer’s house (he finally found it, in the guest room.) It actually turned into a bit of an adventure when he figured out that Spencer’s house was also hiding Ryan’s copy of _Glamorama_ and, for some reason neither he nor Spencer can fathom, Ryan’s sixth grade yearbook. When Jon asks to speak to Spencer, Ryan watches as Spencer frowns at the phone while Jon talks, and then hangs up on him, the tinny sound of Jon’s ridiculous, high-pitched giggle barely audible.

Spencer moves to the opposite wall, legs stretching out as he settles against it. He’s looking at Ryan with faint amusement and Ryan looks back down at the scattered papers in front of him, leaning over his guitar and frowning.

“Spence, if we were fictional, I’d be the heroine in a gothic novel, wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, man. You’ve kind of got a Chevalier Danceny thing going on. And you’re a hell of a lot less Byronic than you used to be.”

Ryan laughs and looks up. “Sometimes, like right now, I’m reminded of how weird we are.” 

Spencer looks at him like he’s considering something. “You have a valid point. Fine, let’s play it a different way: if we were in a movie, you’d be the tragic hero that the heroine shouldn’t choose.” 

That seems fair to Ryan. “Who would you be?”

“The solid, hardworking Right Guy,” he says, sounding completely smug and sure of his answer. His foot rests against Ryan’s knee, tapping idly.

“Oh, fuck you. You’re totally the plucky heroine.”

Spencer picks up a stray guitar pick and throws it at him. Ryan ducks.

“You _are_. I can hear the Mary Tyler Moore song in my head right now.”

Spencer grimaces at him. “This is why kids shouldn’t watch Nick At Nite.”

Ryan looks away and mumbles, “Yeah, that and the crush you used to have on Davy Jones.” He smiles at the floor.

Spencer sighs. “Sometimes I hate you so much I can barely even express it.” Ryan looks him in the eye and they smile at each other. He goes back to playing his melody, this time with Spencer humming along and tapping out a rhythm against the floor, telling him when his lyrics are a bad idea and smiling silently when he thinks they’re not.

_________________

Somehow, Spencer’s parents have managed to convince Spencer that grocery shopping for them is fair compensation for all the free dinners. Ryan thinks it’s kind of fun in its mundanity, walking up and down the aisles. Spencer pushes the cart, explaining to Ryan that “you might hurt yourself with your spindly little arms.” He pouts when Ryan punches him in the chest.

When Ryan comes back from another aisle, a bag of flour in his hands, he finds Spencer talking to a girl he vaguely recognizes. As he gets closer, his brain kicks in and reminds him that this is Mimi, who Spencer had a crush on in tenth grade. She’d shown up at a party Spencer threw, and ended up spending the evening hitting on Brent. Spencer had looked bruised around the edges for weeks, and destroyed a few dozen drumsticks until he got over it.

Ryan remembers being a little unavailable at the time. He’d been hooking up with a guy named Daniel from his English class (there was stuff Ryan could try with Spencer, and stuff that he just couldn’t) and Daniel had recently decided that he couldn’t quite reconcile the Catholic thing with the jerking Ryan off in his car thing. It was a confusing period of Ryan’s life.

He walks up behind Spencer, putting a hand against Spencer’s back and feeling him jump as he turns around.

“Hey, Mimi, right?” Ryan says.

She turns to him. “Hi, Ryan!” She’s got a bright, clear smile and seems like she might hug him in greeting. Ryan steps closer to Spencer. 

“Mrs. Smith has you guys shopping?” she says.

Ryan looks down at the bag of flour still in his hand, and clutches it a little tighter. “Yeah, family errands. You know how it is.”

“That’s awesome. She must be really happy to have you both home. You guys were always like brothers.”

Ryan feels himself flinch, clenching his hand in the back of Spencer’s shirt. He can feel Spencer staring at him. None of them say anything for a moment, until Spencer leans forward to hug her.

“Hey, it was great to see you again. We should hang out sometime.”

She looks over his shoulder at Ryan as she agrees, and Ryan realizes that he’s still holding on to Spencer.

When she leaves, Spencer turns to look at him. Ryan looks right back. 

Spencer rolls his eyes. “You can let go of me now. The scary girl is gone.”

“It’s just — she ditched you for Brent.”

“When we were _fifteen_. You’re a complete psycho. You know that, right?” 

Ryan hums in agreement and lets go enough to put the flour in the cart.

_________________

Ryan’s boredom has become so acute that he’s risking the full fury of Spencer’s wrath by playing around with his drum kit. Ryan’s an awful drummer: he’s never been able to multitask well enough to keep more than one rhythm going at a time.

Spencer comes in when he’s spent about ten minutes attempting to coordinate the kick drum with the snare.

“If you were anyone else, you’d be lucky if I let you escape with your hands.” He’s leaning against the doorway, frowning at Ryan.

“You let Jon and Brendon play your drums,” Ryan says.

“That’s because Jon and Brendon can actually play.” He comes around behind Ryan, and when Ryan looks up, Spencer’s hands are on his hips and he’s frowning, as if he’s casting down judgment on the scene before him. “You’d think you would have picked more of it up by now. You’ve had years.”

He bends down into Ryan, curving around him as he picks up Ryan’s left hand and cradles it in his own. “Just keep the beat up with your foot, I’ll handle the rest.” Ryan can do that, he can keep solid half notes going in 4/4 on the kick. 

Spencer grips Ryan’s hand around the drumstick and counts off in his ear. He uses Ryan to play out quarter notes on the snare, letting him get used to it for a few measures before grabbing his right hand. Ryan tries to relax into it as Spencer starts out fast eighth notes on the hi-hat, resting against Spencer and letting him move Ryan whichever way he wants to, but it doesn’t really come together. He needs his wrist to be looser for it to work, and he’s already tensing and huddling back into Spencer and away from the sticks, his muscles apparently sensing impending danger and withdrawing without asking him. They completely lose the rhythm and Spencer laughs at him. He rests his face against the back of Ryan’s neck for a moment, smiling, and then drops Ryan’s hands and backs away. Ryan feels like he should be tensing; the reality of Spencer’s body against him and his beard scratching against Ryan’s neck should unsettle him, but it doesn’t. Spencer moves fully away from him, coming around to the other side of the kit, and Ryan feels the absence keenly for a moment.

“Dude, if all of your lessons were like that, maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you into drumming at such a young age.”

“I believe in hands-on teaching.” He pulls a chair over, placing it right in front of the kit and straddling it, looking Ryan in the eyes. “And I don’t know why you think you pushed me into anything. I wanted to do it.” His voice is more earnest than he usually gets. 

Ryan doesn’t remember it quite the same way. He wanted a band and he wanted to sing and play guitar, which meant he needed a drummer. Spencer had been making things work in Ryan’s life for quite a few years by then, so it wasn’t like there was another choice.

He rests the drumsticks on the snare and looks down at them. “But _did_ I pressure you into this? I mean, you could be doing anything right now, but I’ve had you living on a tour bus and waking up in strange cities for a good four years now.”

“Yeah, it sucks. I’m barely old enough to rent a car, but we’re sitting in the house that I bought with my own money, which I earned doing something I love. This band thing was the worst idea you ever had.” There’s a smile in his voice and Ryan finally looks up at him. “What the hell, Ryan? Your emo used to at least be productive. If we don’t get songs out of your navel-gazing, I’m going to be pissed.”

Ryan laughs and passes the drumsticks to Spencer as he gets up. “Switch with me, I’ll get my guitar.”

_________________

After a night when he has finally convinced Brendon to go to one of his indie movies with him, Ryan stays late at Brendon’s, watching him play fight with Regan while Shane laughs. Dylan jumps up and down next to them, wanting attention. Keltie has custody of Hobo this month, but at least Ryan has Spencer’s dogs to play with. Which reminds him that it’s about time he left.

“Dude, you’re not crashing here?” Shane asks him.

He shakes his head and grabs Brendon by the arm, “Nah, Brendon’s giving me a ride home.” Brendon looks slightly put out but follows him out to the car, driving towards Ryan’s place without much protest.

“You should come over more often,” Brendon says as he makes a turn. They’re far enough out into the suburbs that there are only a few cars on the streets.

“Dude, I spend seventy percent of my year with you, I think we can both handle a break.”

“You know you miss me when we’re not attached at the hip. I pity you those long lonely nights spent pining for the bus.” He smiles widely, his teeth a bright flash in the dark of the car. “You should feel relieved that I’m man enough to handle it. Jon ran all the way to Chicago to get away, but I’m here for you, man.”

Ryan smothers a laugh. “See, this is why I need the break from you people.”

Ryan notices that they’re halfway to his house then and it occurs to him that he should tell Brendon to head towards Spencer’s instead. 

Brendon raises his eyebrows at him but sharply changes direction. “Well, those are some awfully mixed signals.”

When they turn on to Spencer’s street, Ryan starts to take out his keys.

“Aren’t you going to call him?” Brendon asks as they pull up to Spencer’s house, letting the engine idle. 

“Why? I have my key.” He fumbles for his keys and they drop onto the floor of the car.

When he bends over in the seat to pick them up, Brendon speaks slowly and deliberately, as if Ryan really needs to understand him. “I have a key too, Ryan. In case of fire or flood or if he’s fallen and he can’t get up. It’s for emergencies, not dropping in at two in the morning.” He laughs suddenly. “What, did you move in or something?”

“No. Well, kind of — but no, really, no.” He finally gets his keys and goes for the door handle without turning back to Brendon.

“Way to be sure of your answer there, man. When’s the last time you actually saw your condo?”

Ryan looks away. “I don’t know. A week and a half ago, maybe?” he mumbles.

He clambers out of the car, looking at Brendon out of the corner of his eye and seeing him smirk. He shuts the car door behind him without saying goodbye. Brendon peels off down the street.

He comes quietly into the house, taking his shoes off and placing them in the entryway as soon as he’s shut the door. The house is dark, and Ryan wonders what Spencer did with his evening, since he’d claimed he’s already paid enough Pretentious Movie Time With Ryan Ross dues for his entire life, and no amount of complaining about limited engagements will convince him to give in now. He pads softly on the hardwood floors towards Spencer’s bedroom. There’s soft light spilling into the hallway through the door that’s slightly ajar, so he peeks in, trying not to make any noise. 

When he looks in he sees Spencer asleep on his stomach, covers tossed off of him and the bedside lamp still on. There’s a book on music management next to him on the bed, probably a gag gift from Pete. Ryan creeps in as quietly as he can. He sits on the side of the bed, looking at Spencer for a moment and trying not to wake him. Spencer stirs, as if he can feel Ryan there.

“Did Brendon bring you home?” Spencer’s voice is thick with sleep, and Ryan startles for a moment. He hadn’t expected Spencer to wake up.

“Yeah.” He shifts slightly closer, pushing Spencer’s hair back off of his face so he can see his eyes when they finally open. “I was about to head to my room.” 

Spencer yawns and look at his bedside clock. “You should crash here tonight.”

“I just told you that I am.”

Spencer turns onto his side, still slow in his movements. “No, I mean you can stay _here_ , if you want.” 

Ryan’s hand stills in Spencer’s hair for a moment, waiting for some sort of confirmation that he’s hearing correctly. 

Spencer yawns widely. “Or go to the guest room, whatever.” 

Ryan lets out a breath. “Yeah, I’m going.” Spencer nods and his eyes close again.

He pulls the covers up over Spencer and turns off the light before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind him. He waits for a minute with his back against the closed door, just listening to himself breathe, before heading off to his room.

_________________

Ryan sits in his car outside of Spencer’s house, staring at his phone. He could be inside if he wanted to; Spencer is out buying groceries or hanging with his sisters or bugging Brendon. He hadn’t really specified when he left, telling Ryan that they could probably stand to spend a few hours away from each other. He’d said it with a teasing smile, but when he left, Ryan still found himself heading outside and sitting alone, resolutely not freaking out.

He calls Jon without letting himself stop to think about it.

“I have no clue what I’m doing,” he says, before Jon can even finish saying hello.

“In general, or is this a specific thing?”

Ryan really needs Jon to take this seriously. “It’s just, you know how you brought up me and Spencer? And why we never, you know, did anything?” He waits for Jon to hum in assent. “I think we’re doing something now.”

Jon laughs at him. “If you’re calling me about it, then you’re already pretty deep into it, right?”

Ryan always forgets how well Jon knows him.

“So, what’s your problem? Is it just all too perfect?”

“No. I just, I have no idea where this is going.”

“Well, gee, Ryan, we’ve got two options here: either I can find one of Cassie’s old copies of _Seventeen_ and we can look for advice, or you can be a grownup and talk to him about it.”

Ryan can’t think of a way that would go well. Spencer is reticent at the best of times and besides, Ryan shouldn’t need a roadmap to figure out what’s happening with Spencer, of all people.

Jon keeps talking. “Or, you could just play it by ear, and see where you end up.” Jon’s voice is mocking, but going with the flow is really sounding like the best option here.

“Okay, I’ll just play it by ear.” He can hear Jon’s exasperated sigh. “It’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, continuing to be clueless is totally not going to bite you in the ass here.” He pauses. “Hey, does this mean that I’m your first choice when you’re having a crisis that you can’t tell Spencer about?”

“What? I guess, yeah.”

“Can I tell Brendon?”

Ryan hangs up on him.

_________________

When Spencer gets home, Ryan’s lying on the floor, determinedly contemplating whether Spencer should get a new dining room set. Spencer pokes him in the side with his foot.

“Get up. We’re going on a road trip.” 

“What?” 

Spencer nudges him a little harder. “You’re bored. And, more importantly, you’re boring. So we’re going to your house so you can pack enough stuff for a week, and then we’re going somewhere.” He digs his toes into Ryan’s side, right where he’s most ticklish. Ryan curls up around Spencer’s leg, laughing.

“And you’re not telling me where, are you?”

“Nope.”

He pulls Ryan up off the floor, and supervises as he packs up his computer and notebooks, three of his guitars, and some of the clothes he has lying around on the floor of Spencer’s guest room. When he pulls everything together, they realize that they don’t even have to make the trip to Ryan’s house because he’s left enough stuff at Spencer’s to last him through a month-long trip.

They’ve loaded up Spencer’s car and are on the 15 headed out of the state towards California when Ryan finally can’t take it anymore and asks where they’re going. He’s been curled up in the passenger seat watching the world roll by for the past hour.

“It’s a surprise. We’ll be there in about eight hours. Actually, I’m making you drive at least half the way, so we’ll be there in eleven hours.” Spencer turns to grin at him quickly, before turning back to look at the road, pushing his sunglasses up on the top of his head to hold his hair back. He would usually have gotten it cut by now; the ends are touching his shoulders. In a few more weeks he’ll look like he wandered off a commune somewhere.

“How am I going to drive if I don’t know where we’re going?” he says, although it might be interesting to just drive and see where they end up.

“You’ll get on the 58 at Barstow and keep going west. I’ll take over when I need to.” 

Ryan leans forward into his seat, opening the glove box and taking out Spencer’s California-Nevada-Utah-Arizona map. He unfolds it and tries out a few options.

“The Giant Sequoia National Monument is too close.” Spencer doesn’t answer. “Paso Robles sounds interesting.” Spencer sniggers. “Visiting your girlfriend at the prison in Chowchilla?” He finally gets Spencer to crack up.

“I’m not telling you. Just relax and enjoy the mystery.” 

Ryan settles back into his seat and tries to follow the advice. 

They actually haven’t done this together on their own before, Ryan realizes. There was always Trevor and Brent, or Brent and Brendon, or, even later, Brendon and Jon. By the time they were old enough that road trips would be a Smith-parent approved activity, they were living in a van and the idea had lost some of its appeal.

They stop to eat at a Baja Fresh in Bakersfield, the strip mall looking like every single strip mall they’ve ever been to. Jon likes to take pictures of chain stores wherever they are, building a collection of Krispy Kremes and Gap outlets stretched across the country. He’s really the only one of them who’s charmed by the idea.

Ryan has installed himself in his seat by the time Spencer slides into the chair across from him at the outdoor table. There’s an ugly green patio umbrella shading them, but Ryan still puts his sunglasses on.

Spencer’s brought him two chicken tacos and a Sprite, and as he says thanks he tries to remember if he told Spencer what to order for him. And wonders if Spencer would have listened or just got him whatever he thought was best. He can’t really argue with Spencer’s choice.

“Did you tell Brendon where we were going?” Ryan asks.

“I told him that we were going _somewhere_ , and I’ll call Jon to tell him the same thing. Neither of them would hold out for more than two minutes if you called and asked them.”

“We are truly the band’s pillars of fortitude.” Ryan hooks his foot around Spencer’s ankle under the table.

Spencer laughs at him and digs into his shrimp burrito.

_________________

“So, why exactly didn’t we bring Brendon on this trip?” Ryan doesn’t want to disturb the equilibrium they’ve got going right now, with Spencer driving serenely and not mocking him when he sings along with the stereo, but it would probably be weird if he didn’t ask.

Spencer’s quiet for a moment before answering. “He wouldn’t want to go where we’re going,” he says. As Ryan opens his mouth to respond, Spencer says, “No, still not telling.”

“Besides, we don’t have to do everything as a group. Can’t we have some best friend alone time?” He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on Ryan’s knee. “We can reminisce about things every else is sick of hearing about! Remember that awesome Halloween party we had when we were eight and nine?”

“The one where you flipped out because someone else came dressed as the Blue Power Ranger?”

“The Blue Power Ranger was the smartest one! I had a kickass costume.”

“You know you shouldn’t still be angry about this, right?”

Spencer lifts a hand from Ryan’s leg and flips him off.

“Well, you’re at the same level of maturity as you were then, so I guess I can’t be that shocked,” Ryan says.

Spencer’s iPod is hooked up to the car’s stereo, and Ryan fiddles with it, scrolling back and forth through the artist list. He contemplates playing one of the Dresden Dolls songs he finds, but Spencer’s still kind of sensitive about the crush on Amanda he developed when they toured together. 

He picks something innocuous and starts to play it. Spencer sings along softly, humming through some of the words. Ryan turns slightly and curls up further in his seat, watching Spencer sing along, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. He thinks he should get Spencer to sing more on the next album. He’s always up for it when they’re writing, and even on stage, but the minute he gets close to a microphone he clams up. When they were in the cabin, Ryan got so used to hearing Spencer’s voice in the mix of whatever they were doing that it always took him a minute to adjust to the change when they were recording. 

Spencer turns his head away from the road for a moment, and then turns back after smirking at Ryan. 

“You know, that’s kind of distracting. We’ve only got about three hours left until we get there and then you can longingly gaze at me all you want, for a whole week.”

Ryan feels his face heat and turns to look out the windshield.

_________________

About an hour outside of Bakersfield, they see a sign for an an outlet mall and look ruefully at each other.

“It’s okay if you want to go to the Nike store, man. I’ll support your decision.”

Spencer grimaces at him and makes the turn into the mall.

When they get to the store, Ryan follows his “Spencer in the presence of _shoes_ ” protocol, following behind him serenely and saying “hmmm” and “ahhhh” when appropriate. There’s a teenage salesgirl with subtly striped purple hair, a spacer in her ear, and a blush on her face, but he’s pretty sure Spencer hasn’t noticed her yet. Ryan smiles at her and she looks down, turning completely red. It’s never not cool when that happens. Sometimes on tour he’ll go two blocks over from whatever venue they’re at that day, far enough away from the crowd of screaming girls that he can walk down the street with no one noticing him, just to feel the contrast. 

Spencer tears his eyes away from a pair of sneakers that honestly look the same as every other pair of sneakers and looks at Ryan.

“Do you want to do the autograph thing?” Spencer says, nodding at the girl. 

“Yeah, sure, if she asks. And if it doesn’t seem like she’s going to post to her MySpace blog about the Ryan Ross/Spencer Smith rendezvous she witnessed.” 

Spencer hands three shoeboxes to Ryan and then rests his hand at the small of Ryan’s back, leaning close. “Aw, baby. Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of our eternal love.” He grins and then walks two aisles away before Ryan can answer.

By the time they make their way out, Spencer has bought four pairs of shoes, they have signed two autographs for the surprisingly shy salesgirl, and Ryan is feeling a wave of goodwill towards Tulare, California. This is only increased when he sees the Geoffrey Beene store.

He goes a little crazy in the accessories section, and Spencer asks him if he needs someone to hold his purse while he tries things on. 

“I know you were planning on going to Claire’s, Spence, so maybe you could pick one up while you’re there.”

The salesman seems a little confused by this exchange, but not enough to keep him from showing Ryan their extensive collection of cufflinks.

“Can you just buy some scarves so we can go?”

Ryan doesn’t even turn around to face him. “I swear, at the next rest stop I’m starting a bonfire with your shoes.” Spencer snickers and Ryan hears him move away. When he turns, Spencer is sitting in a chair with his legs crossed, looking like the world’s most bored husband. Ryan turns back to the salesman and asks about their sunglasses.

_________________

Ryan takes over the wheel in Fresno, letting Spencer settle in the passenger seat. Spencer’s car is remarkably small for him, bought before he hit that last growth spurt, and he has to push the passenger seat back as far as it can go.

Ryan’s following directions (“North on the 99, I’ll tell you if we need to make a change.”) and watching the cars roll by him when Spencer speaks up. 

“Do you think they’re married?” He points to the couple in the car to the left and slightly ahead of them. A man and a woman in their thirties are arguing in their Mini Cooper. The woman is driving and keeps turning her head away from the road to speak to the man, whipping back around quickly as if she realizes she’s getting distracted. The man is gesturing wildly, hands waving as he speaks.

“They could be brother and sister, driving to their great aunt’s house for the reading of the will. They haven’t seen the rest of the family in years, but she promised to leave them a trust fund, so they’re going.” 

Spencer picks up on the game immediately, and Ryan can hear the smile in his voice even though he doesn’t turn to look at him. “Or maybe they’ve been dating for years and they just found out they’re cheating on each other with the same woman.” 

“Or, like, remember Mrs. Anderson and her boyfriend? The one who was like twenty-five?” Spencer laughs in agreement. When they were eleven and twelve their neighbor from down the street ran away with her boyfriend and most of her husband’s money. It was the big neighborhood scandal for a couple of weeks there, and Ryan and Spencer had kept up with it by listening to Spencer’s mom and the husband of their neighbor the stripper gossiping on the curb every morning before they left for work.

The man in the car has turned his head to the side, ignoring the woman and looking out the window, and Ryan stops looking before the guy notices him staring. He catches a glimpse of a roadside sign as they pass. Apparently they’re ninety miles outside of San Francisco.

“If you won’t tell me where we’re going, will you at least tell me what we’ll be doing there?”

“Enjoying California’s natural wonders,” Spencer says. When Ryan glances at him out of the corner of his eye, he’s smiling softly at him. “Just drive. I promise you it’ll be worth it.”

_________________

When they cut past the entire Bay Area, Ryan starts to get very curious. Spencer pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, probably directions to wherever they’re going, and smiles to himself as he continues driving. It lasts about an hour, Ryan shifting in his seat, until Spencer takes a turn off the highway and they’re suddenly in the country, surrounded by rolling green hills striped with rows of grapes.

“You brought me to a _winery_?” 

Spencer pulls into the hotel’s parking lot. “Shut up. I thought you’d appreciate it. If we get bored, we’ll just drive down to San Francisco, maybe hit some clubs and pretend we’re more famous than we actually are.”

“And if we stay here?” The hotel’s really nice, actually, and the vineyards are so close he can see them from inside the car.

“We’ll go on some vineyard tours and you can buy overpriced wine. If you’re good, I’ll even pay for the in-room couples’ massage.” He pops the trunk and gets out of the car without looking at Ryan. Ryan follows.

_________________

Ryan realizes that this may be the best idea Spencer has ever had when they get inside their room.

Spencer pushes him further into the room with his bag, shutting the door behind him while Ryan gapes at the fireplace and sitting room. “Dude. How much did this set you back?” It’s a little overwhelming. Spencer’s the only one of the four of them who hasn’t had an accountant put him on an allowance, so the splurging is unexpected.

Spencer ignores him and checks out the minibar before coming back to lie down on the bed and look at him. “It’s a vacation, don’t worry so much about it. Go explore if you want to, I’m taking a nap.”

Ryan decides that that’s as good a plan as any and moves past his own bed to settle next to Spencer.

Spencer seems headed quickly towards sleep, but Ryan feels too tense, as if he needs to act now or he’ll miss his cue. He shakes Spencer awake, and when Spencer’s eyes open, Ryan leans in and kisses him.

It’s not actually that awkward, and Ryan thinks he probably should have expected it to be more so. There’s something very weird about kissing someone who knows everything about you in every way except this one. They’ve done this before, years ago, but never with any sort of intent. It starts out well, no bumping noses or clacking teeth, none of the clumsiness he would expect from someone new, and that’s kind of the worst part. He wants a big, embarrassing moment to break the tension that should be there, so they can laugh it off and get going on whatever this is. But there’s none of that, just the sweep of Spencer’s tongue against his lips and the feel of his heart beating against Ryan’s, and Ryan can’t help but tense at the thought that something has to go wrong soon.

It doesn’t, and when Spencer pulls away to smile at him, Ryan smiles back. He lies back on the bed and goes to sleep.

_________________

The first thing they do when Ryan wakes Spencer up is talk to the concierge. It’s clear that he and Spencer confuse the hell out of her: they’re younger than anyone else Ryan has seen in the hotel unaccompanied by a parent, and they’ve got a double room, so she pretty obviously has no idea what they’re doing here together. She promises to give them a discount on the (apparently fascinating) Wine Train, though, so he takes pity on her and explains that they’re just really good friends. Spencer snickers from a few feet behind him, and Ryan refuses to acknowledge him.

_________________

Ryan thinks he might be getting prematurely old, because he’s starting to translate “boring” into “relaxing,” sitting in the lobby of the hotel with Spencer after their return from the completely uneventful Wine Train Extravaganza. It had actually been nice, despite lasting four hours and involving learning more about wine, train travel, and the financial and emotional well-being of everyone else who had been suckered into attending the trip than he ever expected or wanted to. He pressed against Spencer as the train moved, pretending to pay attention to whatever their host was rambling about while he looked out the window and watched the endless green fields pass by. He’d turned to Spencer to joke about how they’d have trouble working this into a song without everyone reading it as another drug reference, and found Spencer already looking at him. Spencer had looked down and poked Ryan in the leg before turning back to hear about the complex and storied history of the Napa Valley, and Ryan looked back out the window, smiling.

When they get back to their hotel room, Spencer throws a sport jacket at him and then goes to change out of his jeans. Ryan watches him put on his own blazer in confusion, before Spencer explains. They are apparently going to completely live the cliché, and so Ryan finds himself in the hotel lobby, waiting for their table to be called so they can take advantage of the hotel restaurant. As they’re led in and seated, Ryan leans forward to whisper to Spencer, “What, you’re not pulling my chair out for me?”

Spencer laughs. “Fuck you, I’ve already given you my best moves. You can seat yourself.”

It’s surprisingly not very different from any other time they’ve gone out to eat in a nice restaurant, and it makes Ryan wonder if it always looked like this, some weird amalgam of dinner out with the family and a prom date. When their server comes by, Ryan makes Spencer order for him, earning a pointed look and reluctant compliance. It’s actually fun to sit back and see how it unfolds.

Spencer waits until the server leaves before scowling at him. “Are you also expecting me to walk you to your door tonight?”

Ryan leans back in his chair and holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, you changed the rules first. I’m just trying to figure out boundaries here.”

Spencer looks down and smiles, but he still kicks Ryan under the table.

“We should do this more often, at home,” Spencer says, his voice light. 

Ryan stops to think about it. “Yeah, nothing shuts down those gay rumors like fine dining together.”

Spencer looks up at him then, considering. “I’m sure we’d find a way to deal with it.” His voice isn’t exactly vehement, but it’s a lot stronger than Ryan’s expecting.

He tries a slight smile. “Yeah, maybe.” He kicks Spencer back and watches him relax. They sit in comfortable silence until the food arrives.

_________________

There’s a good dose of cosmic irony in the fact that they fail so spectacularly at golf when they get around to trying out one of the courses near the hotel. They stick it out for a few holes, until Spencer decides that it’s not worth it and they go to sit by the pool.

Spencer stretched out on a deck chair is distracting in a way that Ryan never imagined it would be, with his legs extended in front of him and his skin glowing in the sun. No one with that many freckles should tan easily, but Spencer never seems to burn.

Ryan sits up in the deck chair next to him, still in a t-shirt, which had caused a silent argument when they first got there. Spencer had sat and stared at him for a moment when they got to the pool, stripping down to his shorts and then settling back to look expectantly at Ryan. That was all the impetus Ryan needed to keep his clothes on. They sighed meaningfully at each other for a while until Spencer gave up and laid back with his sunglasses on.

It’s surprisingly easy between them, like there hasn’t been much of a change at all beyond the physical. Spencer stands closer, he leans into Ryan, lays kisses on his neck before moving away without saying a word, but everything else has stayed the same. Ryan feels like he’s missed a step, like they jumped ahead a month or so without anyone telling him. There’s just no way it should be this easy.

“Stop thinking; there’s nothing to figure out.” Spencer doesn’t even take off his sunglasses, speaking to Ryan without turning to him.

Ryan tries to follow his advice.

_________________

The private veranda may be the best part of the hotel, with its huge wooden rocking chairs on a secluded porch overlooking a fountain. Spencer has taken out one of the towels from their bathroom and is lying on the floor in his boxers, soaking up as much sun as he can. Ryan pulls farther back into the shade, curled up in the rocking chair with a notebook. It’s late enough in the year that they can be outside at seven and still have sun.

“I bring you out to Wine Country in the spring, and you refuse to take advantage of it. The sun won’t hurt you, Ryan.” Spencer doesn’t even open his eyes as he speaks. Ryan realizes that he has on his huge sun hat with its wide brim and the Jackie O sunglasses he picked up in the women’s accessories section of the Geoffrey Beene in Tulare, and thinks that Spencer may have a point.

”Come down here with me. I promise you won’t burst into flame when the sun touches you.” He opens his eyes and turns to Ryan, holding out a hand. Ryan puts his notebook down and steps down from his perch on the rocking chair to sit next to Spencer.

He drops awkwardly next to Spencer and pulls off his hat and sunglasses, his shirt and pants, until he’s in his underwear just like Spencer is. Ryan curls up into him, pushing slightly until Spencer moves enough to let them both have at least a little bit of the towel. Spencer turns on his side, and Ryan wonders if he’s taking up too much space until Spencer puts a hand against his jaw and turns his head so they’re looking each other in the eye. They stay that way for a while, Spencer’s eyes moving like he’s searching for something but never stopping the eye contact he’s keeping with Ryan. When Ryan’s about to crack a joke and break the moment, Spencer leans in and casually kisses him. Hs hand drifts down Ryan’s jaw to rest against the side of his neck, shifting his hand until he’s gripping Ryan, angling his head the way he wants it. He turns more fully into Spencer, rubbing his thigh against Spencer’s just to feel the rasp of the hair on their legs. Spencer shifts up into him, tangling their legs together.

Its lazy and unhurried, and Ryan thinks it fits the mood of this place and this vacation, no rush to do anything, but always full of possibility. He thinks that maybe it’s time to take Spencer up on that.

He pulls back from the kiss and Spencer’s mouth goes to his throat, replacing his hand where he’d been resting it. Ryan pulls Spencer closer and says, “We should go inside.”

Spencer mumbles, “Relax, no one can see us from here,” into his neck.

“No, I mean, this will be a lot more comfortable if we go inside.” 

Spencer pulls back fully, the “Ryan, why are you so difficult?” look of fond exasperation on his face. Ryan doesn’t say anything and waits for Spencer to catch up. He can see the moment when Spencer gets it, sitting up quickly and pulling Ryan along with him.

When they’re settled on the bed, Spencer winds his long legs around him, and Ryan can’t stop looking at the nick in the side of Spencer’s knee from when he fell while playing tag when they were ten and eleven. And Ryan realizes all of a sudden that this is how he always thinks of it, “when we were seven and eight,” “when we were twelve and thirteen,” like he can’t have one without the other. It’s the strangest mix of novelty and familiarity. Spencer’s huffing against his neck, warm breath and the scratch of his beard making Ryan shiver against him. The scent of Spencer’s skin should be almost mundane at this point, but it’s not right now, with Spencer close enough that he can’t smell anything else.

Spencer runs his nails along Ryan’s sides, drawing his attention back to him. “Stop thinking for once,” he says, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Ryan wants to tell him what he was thinking, but he gets distracted when Spencer leans up as far as he can and pulls Ryan’s head back to him. They’re getting used to kissing now, everything from the casual pecks that Spencer feels free to drop onto his lips whenever the mood strikes him to the long minutes he’s been spending tucked up close against Ryan’s body, licking into his mouth with his hands cupped around Ryan’s jaw as if he’s trying to tell him something important using nothing but his breath and his tongue against Ryan’s. Ryan just holds on, hoping he’ll understand the message eventually.

He breaks away, sliding down Spencer’s body and stripping him of his boxers as he goes. He knows it must be the least seductive act ever, so he stops thinking about it, taking Spencer’s cock in his mouth and making a few shallow bobs before going down as far as he can. He pulls back quickly before he can choke, and goes to try again when Spencer puts a hand on his head, pushing his hair back. 

“Ryan. I’m not grading you on technique.” Ryan laughs against him and settles for jacking him while he shifts further down, running a knuckle behind his balls just to hear Spencer gasp. He leans in and gets a shoulder under one of Spencer’s legs, replacing his fingers with his tongue before he can stop to think about it. “Ryan?” Spencer asks, like he wants to check before they go further, but his hips still tilt up and Ryan decides he might as well go for it.

He’s done this before, with girls, but Spencer is entirely different, his voice getting higher and his legs pulling back towards his chest as if he can’t help it. Ryan rubs his cock against the sheets, trying to concentrate and lick deeper into Spencer, who’s shuddering now, accidentally kicking him in the shoulder as he shakes.

“Ryan,” he warns, one hand clenched in the sheet next to him and the other grasping Ryan’s hand where he’s rested it on Spencer’s stomach and tangling their fingers together. Spencer’s breathing like a bellows as he tries to hold on, making their hands move up and down rapidly. Ryan pulls away, climbing up on top of him and bringing their joined hands up to rest next to Spencer’s head. Spencer leans up to kiss him and Ryan tries to pull back, but Spencer just grips his hand harder, before tugging until he can get it free. He sinks his fingers into Ryan’s hair and pulls his head down until they’re breathing into each other’s mouths.

“Spence,” he starts, but Spencer leans up far enough to catch Ryan’s lips with his. It’s shockingly hot, and dirtier than anything Ryan’s ever done before. His hips stutter against Spencer’s and Spencer rides it out, rocking up into him as they kiss. He pulls away, out of the kiss, his hips still pressed tight to Spencer’s. Spencer runs a hand down his back, resting right above his ass and holding Ryan to him, and Ryan thrusts into the cradle of his hips for a moment before dragging himself away.

He pulls back and takes off his underwear, fumbling as he tries to stay upright. “We need — where —” 

Spencer cuts him off and shoves him towards the side of the bed. “Nightstand,” he says, sounding breathy. Ryan reaches over before stopping and turning back to look at Spencer.

“You planned this?”

Spencer kicks him in the leg. “Yeah, I used my amazing psychic skills to figure out that we’d eventually have sex. Will you please get the condoms?”

When Ryan settles back on top of him, Spencer grabs the condom from him and opens it. He’s bewildered for a moment, until Spencer stops and pushes the lube at him. “Work with me here.”

He opens Spencer up with his fingers, going as quickly as he can without hurting him. Spencer’s hand shakes as he rolls the condom down onto him, and Ryan takes a moment to drop his head to Spencer’s shoulder. “Just, give me a second.” When he feels like he’s back in control, he lifts his head and Spencer takes that as his cue to throw a leg over Ryan’s hips, pulling them back together and helping him push in.

There’s that initial moment of _oh god, oh god, don’t come_ , before he can settle a bit and move against Spencer. Spencer’s hot and clenching around him, his legs settling against Ryan, almost caging him in. He meets Ryan’s eyes. His pupils are completely blown, but he still looks like he’s searching for something. He opens his mouth like he might say something and Ryan burrows his head down against Spencer’s chest and starts moving. It’s slower and easier than he was expecting, Spencer resting a leg along his side and moving with him. They’re pressed so close together that the friction of their bodies gets Spencer off quickly, convulsing against Ryan in waves. Ryan stays as still as he can, moving his head until he’s breathing into Spencer’s hair. When Spencer’s done, he raises a hand to scratch at the nape of Ryan’s neck, pulling his hair as he starts moving under Ryan again. Ryan leans back into it, closing his eyes and trembling as he comes. 

He lies there for a moment, Spencer’s hand still in his hair and one leg hooked around Ryan’s waist while the other rubs against his thigh. Spencer eventually pushes him off to the side, letting Ryan toss the condom away before pulling them both under the covers and flopping back onto the bed, exhausted. He reaches up to turn off the light before moving closer to Ryan. Ryan lies on his back, pressed along Spencer’s side, and rests the back of his hand against Spencer’s leg.

“Spence?” he asks, more quietly than he means to.

Spencer yawns, and then says, “Yeah, Ryan,” and it sounds definitive, as if he’s answering a question. Ryan lets out a breath and rubs his knuckles up and down Spencer’s thigh until he falls asleep.

_________________

He wakes up in the middle of the night with Spencer tucked up close against his back, his breath fanning Ryan’s hair but not touching him otherwise even though they’re nearly pressed together on their sides, chest to back.

Neither of them have ever been cuddlers, really. They’re comfortable in each other’s personal space, but before this sharp turn in the road, they’ve never been particularly deliberate about it. Growing up, Ryan got used to curving against Spencer in a tiny bed, during naps when they were kids or crashing after parties or just needing a place to collapse and be still for a moment. He got so used to the feeling of Spencer against him, the two of them close enough to touch but not making an effort to, that it never seemed out of the ordinary.

With Brent and Trevor, there was still that distance, close enough to punch each other in the arm or give half of a hug, but nothing more. Brendon had been kind of a revelation at first, manic and loud and then quieting down to an intense silence when he was angry or concentrating, or just wanting to project “I don’t want to talk about it” without having to actually say the words. But the most important thing he brought them was the affection, dropping onto Spencer’s lap when he was tired, clinging to Brent’s back and not letting go when he was excited, and grabbing Ryan’s hand and holding on when they both needed the contact but neither wanted to ask for it or explain to anyone. 

Brendon made Ryan realize just how much he did touch Spencer, and the awareness was sharp at first, making him reconsider every move they made. Brendon used touch to convey his every thought with everyone. The fumbling, joking times Ryan and Spencer had tried out kissing each other when they were younger became more significant somehow, raising the possibility that they actually meant something once Ryan could see that there was a whole world of communicating through touch that he and Spencer had never really dealt with. He’d managed to gloss over it once they all got used to Brendon, who could straddle someone with his arms locked around them and still mean it platonically. He still doesn’t know if Spencer had ever thought it through the same way, or if he just adjusted to Ryan pulling back as he figured things out and then pushing back into his space once it settled in his head. Spencer has a bad habit of bending to accommodate Ryan, and he’s not sure if this was just another one of those times.

He turns over and looks at Spencer sleeping, still held slightly away from him. He tries out an arm over Spencer’s waist, and when that doesn’t wake him, he moves even closer, tugging Spencer towards him as gently as he can and lifting his foot to rest his ankle against one of Spencer’s. Spencer mumbles in his sleep, moving closer to Ryan and settling into him. Ryan watches Spencer breathe until he can fall asleep.

_________________

“We should go to the Honey Farm,” Spencer says the next morning. He’s sitting up cross-legged on the bed, completely naked, with a stack of brightly-colored brochures fanned out in front of him. Ryan is still groggy from sleep, and it takes his brain a minute to think through, “Spencer. Naked. Honey Farm?” before he can respond.

“Are you shitting me?” 

Spencer tosses the brochure to him. “The beekeeper will give us a detailed lesson in how organic gourmet honey is made. How can we possibly turn that down?” 

Ryan opens the brochure and looks at it, getting up onto his elbows with the sheets pooling around his hips. “It’s a farm. With bees."

Spencer doesn’t even turn around to look at him. “It won’t be that bad. They show an informative film about bees and beekeeping. Maybe we can sit in the back and you can blow me.” 

“Oh, it sounds like so much more fun now.” He pulls a foot out from under the covers, running it along Spencer’s thigh. “Listen, I know you’re enjoying getting into the spirit of the thing, but dude, Honey Farm?” 

Spencer grabs on to his foot and tugs. “Well, we could always drive out to Old Faithful. Or maybe we could go see the Petrified Forest.” He pauses for a moment and then looks more closely at the brochure. “Actually, that looks kind of awesome. We really should do that sometime.” 

Ryan silently agrees, but he still pokes Spencer in the leg with his toe. 

Spencer keeps talking. “Whatever we do, we should probably get out of this room at least once today. There’s just so much to do here, and I can always fuck you at home.” Ryan uses his heel to kick him hard enough that Spencer flails for a moment, nearly falling off the bed.

Spencer turns around and crawls back under the covers, huddling in close to Ryan and letting the brochures fall to the floor. “We should get up and shower sometime soon,” he says, yawning. Ryan scoots closer to him, closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.

_________________

The biggest change is Ryan’s constant awareness of Spencer. He’s been a fixed point in Ryan’s life for so long that he used to not notice it, knowing that he could turn and look and Spencer would be there. He just never felt the need to look.

Now, Ryan’s in a neverending state of alertness, feeling Spencer at his side like a prickle against his skin. They explore the vineyards, rows of grapes stretching out in front of them with no end in sight, and Ryan can feel Spencer there, the hairs on his arms raising every time Spencer leans in to tell him something. He’s even more easy to distract than usual. They both realize it at the same time, and before Ryan can cover up his reaction, Spencer has taken advantage of it, running his knuckles along Ryan’s spine, the heat of his hand pressing through Ryan’s shirt and making him shiver. He scowls at Spencer, which earns him a loud laugh.

When they get back to their hotel room, Spencer locks the door behind them and grabs Ryan’s hips gently, pushing him down on the bed. He thinks about protesting but ends up giving in and taking his clothes off as he lays back. They should probably turn the covers back, but Ryan finds it difficult to worry about that as he watches Spencer quickly strip and lets him settle between Ryan’s legs before they’ve even said anything to each other. Spencer picks up the lube from where they left it on the bed in the morning and pops the cap open with one hand while he grabs the box of condoms with the other.

“We need to make a condom run,” he says as he hands the box to Ryan.

“Wow, way to heighten the romance, Spence.” He drapes his legs over Spencer’s hips and fishes one packet out of the box.

“I’m totally romantic. Caring about condoms is chivalrous.” He smiles down at Ryan and backs up enough to run his fingers against Ryan’s entrance. Ryan bucks up against him and hooks an ankle around his thigh as Spencer works one finger inside him. “Spread your legs wider.”

“Yeah, I’m really feeling wooed now.” He’s getting breathy and Spencer laughs, two fingers pushed inside. He rolls the condom onto Spencer and squeezes him once, just to feel him shudder. 

“Are you ready yet, or do you want me to stop and recite a sonnet for you?” Ryan rolls his eyes and nods. Spencer leans over, elbows coming up to rest on either side of Ryan’s head after he presses into him. Spencer’s body quakes against him for a moment before he starts to move, and Ryan lets his leg rest higher on his back, arching up into the motion.

“I don’t need more than this, you know?” Ryan says as Spencer pants against his lips. “But jewelry’s always a win if you’re thinking about courting me.”

Spencer laughs as he leans closer and kisses him, and Ryan opens under him, the glide of Spencer’s tongue in his mouth making Ryan clench around him.

It’s faster then, Spencer driving into him but managing to not break the kiss. When he backs away to lick across Ryan’s jaw, his beard scratching against Ryan’s lips, Ryan notices that his hair is a curtain around their faces, blocking the light. It’s really — intimate, almost, which is a weird thought to have with Spencer inside him, sweat rolling down from his chest onto Ryan’s. He shudders against Spencer, close to coming all of a sudden, and pulls Spencer’s head back up so he can meet his eyes.

“Are you close?” Spencer asks, and Ryan nods. It’s quick after that. He’s shaking enough that he feels like he might throw Spencer off, and then Spencer’s tensing against him, moaning into his ear.

They lie there for a while, Spencer panting against his face. “This will probably not be as easy to do when we get back to sleeping in bunks,” he says into Ryan’s ear. Ryan tenses against him and Spencer turns his head to look at him. “What?”

He doesn’t really have an answer, so he tugs Spencer’s head back down and kisses him as Spencer pulls out. When they break apart, he pokes Spencer and says, “Go get in the shower, I’ll be there in a minute.” Spencer follows orders and gets off of him, slapping him on the side as he goes.

When Ryan‘s alone in the room, he stretches for a moment, feeling the air conditioning lift the hair on his arms and legs. He waits a few seconds, trying not to think, and then follows Spencer into the bathroom.

_________________

They start out spending the next day by the pool again, observing families walk by and elderly couples splash in the water. It’s probably the most boring vacation Ryan’s ever been on, but he kind of loves it. He never really thought he’d feel that way about sitting around doing nothing but watching Spencer tan.

A couple of teenage girls walk by and Ryan tenses as they look over at them. Spencer is sleeping, his hand thrown across the distance between their pool chairs, resting against Ryan’s side. Ryan tries to look back at the girls as surreptitiously as he can from behind his sunglasses, and he relaxes as he watches them whisper to each other. The look they send him is inviting, but they don’t seem to know who he is. He unclenches enough to smile at them as he tilts his head towards Spencer. They start giggling and turn back to whisper to each other and Ryan lets himself look away.

_________________

It’s as good as a place out of time, the floor-to-ceiling windows with their blackout curtains, the artificial dark. Ryan’s pretty sure it’s late afternoon by now. They should probably put the room service tray outside; there’s only remnants of the fruit and cheese tray they’d compromised on (Ryan had wanted strawberries, but Spencer laughed at him and said, “What, are we on our honeymoon? I knew you were lying to me when you said you never read my mom’s romance novels.”) Ryan keeps having moments when he realizes just how unreal it is here, completely separate from their lives. He hasn’t had a substantial conversation with anyone other than Spencer in days.

Ryan doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this, the feel of Spencer’s hair slipping through his fingers as he bobs up and down on Ryan, the way Spencer moans around him. He’ll probably have scratches on his thighs from Spencer’s beard, and he wonders if he’ll have to adjust to that now, if it’ll become an everyday thing or if this will change, stop once they’re back to the real world. Or even if they should stop, and what they’re going to tell people if they don’t. Spencer pinches him hard on the leg, and Ryan’s hips jerk roughly against Spencer’s face, the arm over his hips the only thing keeping Ryan from choking him. Which is unexpected, to say the least.

Spencer pulls off and grins but keeps stroking him. “Well, _that’s_ interesting. I was just going to tell you to stop thinking and pay attention to me, but wow, that’s some useful information.” Ryan throws his arm over his eyes and listens to Spencer laugh, hot puffs of air against his sensitized skin. When Spencer runs fingernails sharply against his balls, Ryan bows up off the bed and comes over Spencer’s hand, distressingly easily.

Spencer laughs as he pushes Ryan back on the bed, straddling him. Ryan’s arm is still covering his eyes. “Dude, this opens up a whole world of possibilities to explore.” He takes off the robe and lies on top of Ryan, his eyes shining with laughter and the tips of his hair brushing against Ryan’s face. He rubs his cock against the hollow of Ryan’s hip, leaning down to nuzzle into his neck.

“Were you planning on helping me?” he says into Ryan’s ear, making him shiver.

“I don’t know, I think you’re doing pretty okay on your own there.” He moves his arms to rest across Spencer’s back, not touching him otherwise.

“Are you going to get all bent out of shape about this? I promise, I won’t tell Jon and Brendon that you like it a little rough.” He exhales against Ryan’s face. “Unless it comes up in the course of normal conversation.” Ryan scratches his nails down Spencer’s back, hard, and Spencer hisses against his face. “Fine, I would never tell. I’ll respect the fucking sanctity of our relationship. Could you jerk me off now?” Ryan smiles at him and takes him in his hand.

Spencer grips at his arms, thrusting against him, his hair swinging in Ryan’s face. When he comes, he collapses forward across Ryan’s chest, not moving even though he has to know he’s crushing Ryan. It’s comfortable enough that Ryan lets him lie there. There are probably things they should be talking about now, but Spencer falls asleep on top of him, and Ryan lets it go.

_________________

The vineyard tour the concierge sends them on is amazing, and the air smells rich and earthy, like something is actually being made here even though he’s sure a lot of it is just props for the tourists. The vineyard rep leading them around has a warm, encouraging smile and regales them with tales of growing up surrounded by the grapevines. Spencer rolls his eyes at the overblown nostalgia, but he doesn’t say anything when Ryan asks questions.

He’s actually doing a very good job of suffering through it all while not making his “Ryan, why are you so ridiculous?” face. Ryan kinds of loves that face, though, seeing Spencer’s eyes get huge and then watching him try to adjust and sound calm and interested when he says, “Okay, but have you really thought about this, Ryan?” He thinks he might tell the winery guy he’s interested in dropping a thousand dollars on a bottle, just to watch Spencer get flustered.

They’re walking through the fields, being shown various grape plants, when Ryan notices that Spencer’s filing away the information, his eyes sharp. 

“It’s a great investment when you’re starting out,” the rep is telling them, leading them along the sunny paths. Ryan thinks he should have brought his sunglasses.

Spencer is caught between a look of, “oh, hey, this could be a really good idea,” and polite, measured boredom. He’s seen Spencer turn that interested look on during meetings with Crush, then drop it just as quickly so no one could notice and take advantage. It’s clearly not working this time, because the vineyard rep seems to have picked up on Spencer’s interest and is obviously thinking that they’re rich, gay kids, if Ryan can glean anything from the way that he’s switched his spiel to telling them about building a lasting investment. 

“Most kids your age spend their money on cars and electronics, but you should start thinking about establishing something for both of you. And this is a lot less intimidating than, say, buying your first house together.” He smiles widely at them.

When it’s happened before, people assuming they’re in a relationship, they’ve never corrected anyone on it. And who can blame the guy, really, how many straight guy friends go on trips like this together? But he’s still shocked when Spencer takes his hand and asks about long-term investments and appreciation of assets. It’s like seeing them from the outside, suddenly. Ryan in his vest and scarves, and Spencer’s shoes that had to have cost at least four hundred dollars. Even beyond the obvious clichés, the way they exist in each other's space is probably speaking volumes. Spencer has leaned to whisper into Ryan’s ear three or four times since they got here, never moving far from him. But this is still new, Spencer making an active attempt to present them that way. 

He tugs his hand slightly away from Spencer, and Spencer tightens his fingers, like it’s instinctive, before loosening his hand and turning to look at Ryan. He looks back, and Spencer raises an eyebrow. Ryan can practically hear Spencer’s voice in his head saying, “hey, why not?” He lets himself be tugged closer and turns back to hear about cabernets.

When they get back to their hotel room, three hundred dollars poorer (Spencer had imposed some restraints), Spencer sprawls out on one of the beds, kicking his shoes off. Ryan stretches out on his own bed, and Spencer lifts his head slightly to look at him.

Ryan tries to keep his voice as light as he can. “I’m really touched that you’re looking out for our future together.”

Spencer snorts. “It was just easier not to argue.”

“Dude, what are we doing?” He sits up and crosses his legs, looking down at Spencer who is busy looking at the ceiling. “Is this, like, a serious thing?” 

“Ryan, where have you been the last week? What do you think we’re doing here?”

Ryan slumps back against his pillows. “I don’t know.” 

Spencer lets the conversation drop.

_________________

On their sixth day at the hotel, Brendon calls. Ryan’s sitting on the edge of one of the beds, wondering how much of a dent in Spencer’s bank account their minibar binge is going to make. Before he got up to shower, Spencer had slapped him on the ass and told him that maybe they should go and experience the outside world before housekeeping came looking for their bodies. Spencer’s been advocating an aggressive return to normalcy since the winery tour, as if nothing went wrong there, and Ryan’s been happy to follow along.

When his phone rings, the sound startles Ryan enough that he answers it on instinct. He’s been successfully avoiding texts from Pete and Jon, and when he sees that it’s Brendon calling, he thinks he probably should have turned the damn thing off.

“Where the hell are you two?” Brendon sounds like he’s at a party in a wind tunnel, and Ryan can hear Cassie’s laugh in the background. 

“Are you in Chicago? When did you go to Chicago?”

“When you fuckers decided to take a road trip without me. Plus, Jon was lonely without me. You know how he gets.” Jon shouts something about Brendon’s mom in the background and Ryan laughs.

“How long have you been there?” Ryan asks him. Brendon launches into a long tale of his epic loneliness and how even Shane was getting tired of him and his parents banned him from their house, leaving him to wander the country alone and wend his way to Jon’s place. He makes it sound like it’s been a lot longer than four days. Ryan only listens enough to get the basic gist of the story, because Spencer’s coming out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, and it’s far more distracting than it should be.

“Yeah, Brendon, I’m sure it was sad. Maybe you can write a sestina about it.” Spencer stretches out on the bed next to him, and kicks him in the leg. He mouths, ‘What’s wrong?’ and Ryan says into the phone, “Spencer says that we’re never coming home and you’re a little bitch who should stop whining.” Spencer laughs and kicks him again, harder. He sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, wrapping his legs around Ryan from behind and reaching over his shoulder to grab the phone. Ryan relaxes back into his chest. They’d compromised on the air conditioning, setting it halfway between what was comfortable for each of them because Ryan always gets cold but Spencer never does. But now he can feel the bumps raising on Spencer’s skin from the chill in the room. He opens his mouth to tell Spencer to put some clothes on before he remembers that Brendon would be able to hear him. Spencer leans over his shoulder. He can probably feel Ryan tensing. 

“Brendon, we’ll be there the day after tomorrow, okay? Don’t drive everyone insane before we can even get there.” He closes the phone and Ryan catches up with the conversation.

“We’re going to Chicago?” 

“Yeah.” Spencer shivers against him before backing up and getting off the bed. “I’m totally stealing the hotel robe when we leave.” He goes into the bathroom and puts it on before coming back to stand across the room from Ryan, looking down at his suitcase. The robe comes down to a decent length on him, because he’d claimed the “His” one of the “His and Hers” pair before Ryan could say anything about it. “Brendon and Jon are bored, so they’re playing acoustic sets for Jon’s friends. I figure we should go before they accidentally record something on someone else’s album and get us sued for breach of contract. We’ll fly out of San Francisco on Wednesday.” 

“So, um, what are we planning on saying to everyone?”

Spencer looks up at Ryan, his jaw clenching and his voice flat when he speaks. “I don’t know, Ryan. What do you think we should say?”

Ryan’s fairly sure he’s fucked up somewhere along the line here, but he just stares Spencer down, unwilling to be the one who breaks. “I guess we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

Ryan can see Spencer’s face relax slightly, but he’s still tense.

“Hey, we still have a whole day. I promised you the couples’ massage.” Spencer’s voice is light, but it sounds forced, and Ryan just wants to make him stop using that tone.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Spencer smiles at him then, and it’s genuine. Ryan lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

_________________

Somehow, Spencer has managed to hire someone to drive the car back from the airport in San Francisco to Spencer’s parents’ house in Vegas. Ryan’s used to not asking how Spencer arranges these things. Spencer left to check out, so Ryan loads up the car. He hopes that whoever Spencer hired drives gently enough to protect his guitars and the cases of wine they picked up.

When Spencer comes out of the hotel, Ryan is leaning against the side of the car, looking across the grounds. It’s gorgeous, the sun dropping below the horizon over the vineyards that stretch out farther than he can see. Spencer leans against the car next to him, bumping his shoulder. Ryan hands Spencer his sunglasses and he puts them on. There’s a slight breeze now, and Ryan turns to watch it whip through Spencer’s hair for a moment before he turns away. He feels Spencer’s hand brush against his, and he smiles out at the view.

“So. Is this the best idea I’ve ever had?” Spencer asks him, sounding almost hopeful.

“Yeah,” Ryan says wistfully. They get in the car and head towards San Francisco.

_________________

Between the long drive down to the airport and the plane ride, Ryan is physically uncomfortable enough to remind himself that he’s been having a lot of really athletic sex for the past week. Spencer’s sitting straight up in the seat next to him, turning his head to look out the window and not saying anything. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but it still settles heavily on Ryan. He takes the opportunity of the few quiet hours to contemplate what the fuck they’re going to tell everyone.

He hasn’t come up with any ideas by the time the plane touches down.

They’re met at the airport by Brendon and Tom. Brendon leaps onto them, and anyone watching would probably think they hadn’t seen each other in years. Ryan can admit that he’s kind of missed it. The ride to Jon’s apartment is fairly familiar by now, and Brendon turns around in the passenger seat of Tom’s car to tell them all about how he and Jon are writing! And they’ve been playing covers at parties! And he’s glad Ryan brought a guitar, because they have so much work to do! Spencer makes conversation with Tom, leaning forward from the right rear passenger seat to ask him about what his band is up to, and whether they’ll get to see them perform.

Halfway to Jon’s place, Ryan turns to Spencer in his seat, ready to use him as backup in his argument about lyrics with Brendon, and notices that Spencer is already looking at him. Spencer pokes him in the side and smiles, and Ryan quickly turns back to Brendon.

_________________

Jon sweeps them both up in rib-cracking hugs when they get in the door, and Cassie does the same, thankfully more gently. The cats wind their way over to Ryan, following him as he moves away and lets Spencer get hugged.

When Cassie pulls back from Spencer, she asks, “How did they convince you to come out here?”

Spencer smiles mockingly at Jon and Brendon, before turning back to Cassie. “We’ve heard amazing things about their cover of ‘More Than Words.’”

Cassie giggles and makes Spencer pick up his and Ryan’s bags, dragging him off to their guest room. Ryan collapses onto the couch across from Jon and Tom and hopes he won’t have to answer many questions. Clover leaps up onto the seat next to him, looking at him intently. Ryan feels like he’s being interrogated on all sides.

They talk about what Jon and Brendon have been up to in the past week, the songs they’ve been working on and how they could mesh with what Ryan has in his head. Since they started the hiatus, before Spencer kidnapped him, Ryan’s computer had been his constant companion, listening to the snippets Jon sent him of whatever he was working on. Jon is laid back enough that people don’t realize how restless he can get if they’re not doing anything for a while. 

“It’s manly wanderlust, like Jack Kerouac,” Brendon once said, and Jon had beamed at him. Brendon’s evidently been caught up in it, the two of them finishing each other’s sentences when they’re not talking over each other.

Tom turns to Ryan and says, “See what I’ve been dealing with for a week? Can you take them both home with you?” Jon kicks him and turns back to Ryan.

“So, where were you two?” he asks. “Spencer refused to tell us.” He’s smiling smugly, and Ryan goes for the most innocuous explanation possible.

“Napa Valley. Wine Country. We bought a lot of wine and hung out in our hotel.” His voice is as flat as he can make it, but Jon’s smile just gets wider. Jon opens his mouth to say something, when Cassie comes into the room and smacks him on the back of the head. He pouts up at her, and they have some sort of silent conversation, before Jon turns back to Ryan, changing the subject. Spencer comes back and picks Clover up from her spot next to Ryan, settling back down with her in his lap. 

“We’re kicking Brendon out of the guest room.” Spencer says, ignoring the displeased noise Brendon makes. “Did you tell them all about our fabulous vacation yet?” He drapes his arm around Ryan’s shoulders and Ryan tries not to stiffen in response. When he turns to him, Spencer is looking at him challengingly, and Ryan forces himself to relax.

“No, I thought you’d want that honor.”

Spencer smiles at him then, and it’s genuine. Ryan settles more fully into Spencer and lets him take the lead.

_________________

At four in the morning on the second night after they get to Jon’s, Ryan admits that he’s not getting any sleep that night and disentangles himself from Spencer, whose long legs are wrapped around him as tightly as they can be in the tiny bed. He pulls on some pajama pants and one of Spencer’s t-shirts and wanders out into the kitchen, tiptoeing so he can avoid waking anyone. As he wanders down the hallway, he sees a light on in the kitchen and moves less quietly. When he gets to the kitchen he finds Cassie and Brendon sitting at the table, drinking out of mugs and laughing quietly.

“Ryan, dude. What, was Spencer kicking you in his sleep or something?” Brendon smiles widely at him as Ryan sits down in the empty chair at the table. He grimaces all of a sudden, turning sharply to Cassie and glaring. “What?” 

She hisses, “Shut up!” at him before turning to Ryan. “You want some hot chocolate? Brendon’s been working his way through my stash, so I might as well share with everyone.”

Ryan says, “No, thank you,” and grabs Brendon’s mug away from him, taking a drink.

“Why am I getting attacked here? Cassie kicks me, you steal my drink, and I’m pretty sure that if I get too close to you, Spencer’s going to challenge me to a duel.” 

Ryan chokes on the hot chocolate.

Brendon grins widely. “You weren’t trying to hide that, were you? Spencer’s like two steps away from pissing on you to stake a claim.” 

“Brendon, shut up and leave Ryan alone.” Cassie can put this awesome mom-tone in her voice sometimes, and it’s effective enough that Ryan wishes they could carry her around to keep people in check all the time. 

“What is wrong with you people? If I were a vindictive person I’d go to a hotel and deprive you all of my presence.”

Cassie comes up behind Brendon and rests her arms over his shoulders, hugging him quickly before settling back into her seat. “We only do it because you suffer so beautifully.” She turns to Ryan and they smile at each other. It’s nice, sitting up in the middle of the night with no place in particular he has to be, listening to Cassie and Brendon argue about why Brendon is still the worst house guest ever, even with the addition of two other guys eating Cassie’s food and using her shower. It’s the most relaxed he’s been since they got to Chicago.

_________________

Brendon’s taken to staring at them when they‘re all together now, like he’s trying to figure out exactly what’s going on and when their lives took this left turn. Ryan feels a little bad about it, like he and Spencer have changed the rules on everyone without giving any warning.

“So, are you and Spencer going to be joined at the hip permanently now? I always knew you needed a keeper, so I guess this works as well as anything.”

They’re bent over their guitars, working on filling out a melody Jon’s been playing around with. Ryan’s using one of the guitars Brendon brought with him to Chicago, a pretty good replica of the one Ryan burned at the cabin. Sometimes Brendon’s sense of humor tends to the odd and pointed.

“No, it’s not — it’s not like that. We’re still working things out.”

“Have you told Spencer that?”

They stare each other down for a moment, but neither of them says anything further, and they go back to playing.

_________________

Jon has this habit of wanting to show them off whenever they visit, like they rescued him, instead of the other way around. He drags them out to parties and clubs, introduces them to his high school friends and makes them hang out with his family. Between Jon and Pete, Ryan can now strike up comfortable conversations with people he’s only met once and recognize stories of antics that happened when he was two thousand miles away.

Because of that, it’s strangely not awkward to be stuck in the middle of this party, with an apartment full of Jon’s friends and half of the Chicago scene. There are enough people in bands that he’s run into before to make it easy to nod politely. He stops to talk to Nick, Spencer’s hand guiding him at his back before he steps away to get a drink. Nick raises an eyebrow at them but doesn’t say anything. Ryan’s pretty sure that the whole damn label will be talking about it by the next day. He should probably call Pete, head it off at the pass before he ends up with a hundred text messages and emails full of lyrics about falling in true love with your best friend. Hopefully none of them will blog about it, no matter how oblique they think they can make the reference. 

Jon and Brendon have set themselves up in a corner of the room with their guitars. Brendon looks happy, with a bunch of scene kids clustered around him, so enthralled by his energy they can barely manage to look aloof. He and Jon go through a few covers, things they can easily do with two guitars and a little harmony. Ryan thinks they might have to incorporate it into the show the next time they tour. 

Brendon laughs when the people milling around them give half-hearted golf claps.

“We take requests, people! Anything you can throw at us,” he says as Jon sits back and watches him work the crowd.

Tom yells out, “How about ‘Sound of Silence?’” and Brendon flips him off while everyone laughs.

Ryan is happily listening when he suddenly feels a broad hand grab him around the waist. When he turns, Spencer smirks and tugs him out of the room. He’s pulling them towards the bathroom before Ryan can protest. It’s a bad idea; there are so many people around and Ryan has never been the biggest fan of adventurous sex. But Spencer turns back to grin at him as he drags Ryan along, and he can’t help but follow.

“This is a bad idea,” he says as Spencer closes and locks the door and then drops to his knees in front of him.

“Only you could be this ungrateful about a blowjob. Is this what my life is going to be now, listening to you whine about too many orgasms?” He looks up at Ryan, his hair a mess around his head, and Ryan pushes it back off his forehead so he can see his face. Spencer’s eyes are dilated with just a thin band of blue visible and there’s color high on his cheekbones. The realization that Spencer’s getting off on this is like a sharp blow to his gut. He beams down at Spencer who smiles back and unzips Ryan’s pants.

It still has that thrill of newness, the scratch of Spencer’s beard against his skin and the heat of his mouth. He struggles not to stutter as he speaks to Spencer, “We should — quickly.” Spencer laughs around him and he bucks forward at the sensation, fisting his hands in Spencer’s hair and tugging, forgetting everything he’s ever learned about how to treat someone who’s going down on him. Spencer swallows around him, going down further and he realizes that it’s not worth it to try to hold on any longer. He pulls harder at Spencer’s hair, but Spencer just holds on to his hips tighter and sucks him through it, pulling back and swallowing a few times before he sits back on his heels. Ryan absently pats at Spencer’s head. 

“Still ungrateful?” Ryan shakes his head. “Good, you’re learning.”

“Do you want — ?” he asks, and Spencer says no, but Ryan can see the hard line of his dick in his jeans and wonders how they’re going to manage to walk outside any time soon.

When Ryan has regained the ability to walk straight and Spencer has calmed down some, they head back out into the party. Ryan watches Tom, who has managed to escape being Jon and Brendon’s built-in audience and moved far enough away from them that he doesn’t have to clap every time they finish a song. They’ve apparently got enough people watching them that they don’t need him anymore, and he’s moved on to alternately bickering and laughing with Danielle, as far as Ryan can tell. It hits Ryan that he knows these people, at least well enough to be aware of the way they intersect with each other, to nod at people and pick up small talk at the same place they left it the last time he was around them. Of course, the last time he was here, Spencer wasn’t pressed to his side, close enough that it would be clear that something has changed between them if anyone were to pay attention. Not that anyone would have reason to now.

Spencer pulls him closer, and Ryan realizes that he’s probably kidding himself. 

The party lasts late into the night, the five of them dicking around in the apartment until Jon finally decrees that they will be catching a cab back to Jon and Cassie’s. They pile into two cabs, Jon and Cassie in one with Jon’s guitar, and Spencer, Ryan, and Brendon in the other, Brendon’s guitar laying across the three of them in the backseat.

Ryan rests his head on Spencer’s shoulder as Brendon tells the driver where to go. Spencer’s hand is resting on Ryan’s leg, under the cover of the guitar, and the drive is smooth enough that Ryan is almost lulled to sleep. He focuses on the rhythmic scratch of Spencer’s fingers running up and down his thigh as Spencer and Brendon talk, and he closes his eyes to concentrate on it, the rise and fall of their voices fading into pleasant background noise.

_________________

He comes into Jon’s kitchen one morning to find Spencer and Jon leaning towards each other, talking intensely. Sometimes he forgets that their voices are lighter than both his and Brendon’s, but he’s reminded of it now because he can’t make out their words, only hearing the earnest tone. He pulls back away from the door and waits until Spencer leaves the room. Spencer brushes a hand against Ryan’s waist as he passes by, but he doesn’t say anything.

Ryan goes into the kitchen and drops into the chair across from Jon.

Jon smiles sheepishly at him as he drinks his coffee. “I told you this was going to bite you in the ass.”

Ryan lays his head down on the table. “I just needed a little time! And he’s pretty clear on not giving me that. Seriously, he blew me in the bathroom at that party.”

Jon laughs. “Okay, whoa. That’s way more than I need to know. Just, for future reference, any thought involving Spencer and sex acts does not need to be shared.” 

Ryan sits up and scowls at him.

“You’re not getting any sympathy from me. You’re the one who let him think you were on the same page.” His voice gentles. “Despite what you want to believe, you can’t actually read each other’s minds. If you don’t want this, tell him.”

Ryan opens his mouth to protest, but Jon cuts him off.

“And if you do want this, you have to tell him _that_. You can’t get out of making a decision here, Ryan.”

Ryan puts his head back down on the table.

_________________

By the time they’ve been in Chicago for a week and a half, Ryan still hasn’t talked to Spencer about it, and he’s beginning to think that they should maybe get a hotel room. Brendon is starting to whine more earnestly about having to sleep on the couch, and honestly, Ryan’s starting to feel like he and Spencer are sneaking around. He did the furtive, rushed sex thing when he was a teenager staying with his girlfriend, and he’s not that interested in reenacting that period of his life. Spencer seems to get off on it, though, so it’s not as if there aren’t some rewards.

It’s weirdly dorm-like, though, the five of them crammed into a small space together all the time, Jon’s friends who haven’t seen him in a while constantly streaming in and out. Ryan’s getting used to conversations with Cassie while she brushes her teeth, and long, involved discussions of ‘90s cartoons and Proust with whoever happens to be hanging out on the couch when he wanders into the living room.

Spencer seems to have relaxed into it finally, pulling Ryan down to sit next to him on the couch when he passes by, heedless of whoever else is in the room. It feels simultaneously comfortable and exposed, like they’re acting this thing between them out for an audience, but Ryan doesn’t say anything about it.

_________________

Ryan’s writing in the armchair in the living room when Brendon skips into the room and then drops down onto the couch across from Ryan.

“So, have you figured out what’s going on with you and Spencer?” Brendon takes a few moments to settle back into the couch, legs crossed at the knee and looking utterly relaxed as he smirks at Ryan. 

“We’re together, pretty much.” It’s really the best he can do.

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Brendon smiles brightly. “So are you just fucking around or what?” He meets Ryan’s eyes as he speaks, and Ryan can’t help but think about the fact that anyone else would have the courtesy to pretend to be bashful when asking him that personal a question.

He nearly says it out loud, before realizing that it’s a little unfair. Not that he and Brendon have a problem saying unfair shit to each other all the time.

“No. It’s — something.”

“That’s specific, Ryan. Well done.”

He scowls at Brendon, who laughs at him.

“Oh, come on, you moved in with him and then ran away together. I think I get to laugh at the fact that you’re still trying to pretend you’re not into this as deep as you really are.”

Ryan flips him off and refuses to engage. 

Brendon leans over and grabs Ryan’s notebook from him, and launches into a dramatic reading of the lyrics Ryan’s been working on. Ryan can’t even muster that much annoyance at him.

_________________

They’ve tagged along to a club where Nick has roped Jon into a guest-DJing gig. Ryan’s figured out that Nick must have let word of mouth alert people to their presence in the city, judging by the number of girls with shining, happy faces mixed in with the bored-looking scene kids. Surprisingly, he only gets approached by a few fans, and the only people who have made any inappropriate advances into his personal space are the ones he lives on a bus with. He tries to stick to the VIP room, only venturing out when Brendon manages to make him dance or, even more rarely, when Spencer does.

Ryan finds himself working the room, more comfortable than he expected. He stops to talk to Danielle. He’s sure that when Tom was hanging out with them more often he must have had at least one substantial conversation about something significant with her, but now they mainly stick to mocking their mutual friends. He has a quick conversation with a couple of the guys from Tom’s new band who he met at the first party after he and Spencer got into town, trades tour stories with De’Mar, politely catches up with the people that he knows through Pete (there are significantly more of them here than he’s seen in one place in a while), and watches Brendon dance like an idiot in the middle of a crowd of carefully disinterested onlookers. He has to give Brendon some scene points, though. Jon’s dancing is always worse than Brendon’s and he’s doing it up in the DJ booth in front of everyone. 

When Ryan turns to look up at the booth, he ends up watching Spencer talk to Jon, Jon’s huge headphones pulled to the side so he can hear whatever Spencer is leaning in to say. Spencer’s bent over slightly, and Ryan thinks about Spencer’s horrible posture, and how he’ll probably end up three inches shorter by the time they’re old. And then he realizes he’s actually spending time worrying about what decades of hunching over will do to Spencer’s spine, and decides to get another drink. At this rate, it won’t be long before he starts thinking about consolidating their financial assets.

Spencer spots him as he heads to the bar, and joins him there. He leans against Ryan, close so that Ryan can feel it, but subtle enough to be easily explained away if they need to. They’re in public, Ryan remembers, and in this relationship, with this crowd, he should probably remember that. He looks up at the flat-screen TV above the bar. They’re all around the club, and this one has been playing episodes of Gumby on mute all night. One of the others, across the room, is playing a Bollywood musical. Also on mute. It’s a strange juxtaposition, but then he’s always liked those.

Spencer reaches over him, flagging down the bartender and ordering beers for both of them. Ryan can feel the heat of Spencer’s chest through his shirt and he steps away from it as discreetly as he can. Spencer looks down at him in confusion for a moment, but he ends up just moving closer to the bar, stepping around Ryan without touching him. He can turn it on and off as quickly as he needs to, Ryan realizes, adjusting when he has to. Ryan’s not sure he can do that.

When Spencer hands him his beer, he moves off the dance floor and towards the VIP room without looking back at Spencer. Spencer follows him, though, dragging him until they’re standing in the corner of the VIP room. 

“You just realized we’re in public, didn’t you?” Spencer asks, and Ryan looks down and away. “It’s not like we’re ever not going to be in public, Ryan. If you want us to do this, you have to adapt.”

He really hates it when Spencer preaches at him. “It looks like you adapted pretty quickly.” 

Spencer puts his beer down onto the nearest table. “It’s not the public thing at all, is it? You’d still be like this if it were just with Jon and Brendon,” he hisses, turning slightly away from the rest of the room so only Ryan can see him. “I thought we were over this. Are you still going to pretend that I’m just dragging you along here?”

Ryan looks down at the shiny glass table, watching the fuzzy reflections of the people lounging around the room. From what he can see, it looks like no one is paying attention to them. It still too exposed, and more real than he can deal with at the moment.

“I can’t believe you’re honestly going to stand there and act like you’re just along for the ride.” Spencer looks away from Ryan as he speaks. Ryan can’t remember Spencer looking uncertain about anything, in a long time, and it’s a bit of a jolt. 

“You just, like, kind of decided that we were doing this without giving me time to deal.”

“Are you fucking serious? You can’t let me make decisions and then be pissed that you’re not in control. It’s not my fault that you don’t know how to say what you’re thinking.”

It’s uncomfortably true, and Ryan turns away from him.

Spencer goes on, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “Seriously, I don’t know why I thought this would be as easy as it’s supposed to be. Years with you should have taught me that you’d be hell bent on making this the most high maintenance relationship I could get myself into.” He pushes his hair out of his face and picks his beer back up, tugging on Ryan’s hand until he looks him in the eye. Spencer is smiling at him, ruefully. He goes to the nearest seat he can find and sits down, looking up at Ryan in anticipation. “What the fuck, Ryan? I figured I’d have at least a few more months before you started creating drama where there is none.” 

He probably shouldn’t just go with Spencer on this, Ryan thinks, but he still settles onto one of the long benches against the wall, squeezing in next to Spencer. He lets Spencer’s foot rest against his ankle under the table, thigh pressed to his. He’s still tense, and Spencer can probably feel that.

“Hey.” Spencer turns to get closer to the table, angling himself away from the rest of the room so that he can see Ryan’s eyes. They look at each other for a long moment, before Spencer breaks away, looking past Ryan. “We’ll make it up as we go along, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Ryan laughs. “You’re usually a lot better at this. That’s maybe the least reassuring thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Spencer pulls back, hooking his ankle around Ryan’s under the table and settling into his seat. “Yeah, well, I have to change it up every once in a while, keep you guessing.”

Ryan snorts.

Spencer grabs his chin and turns Ryan towards him. “I just need you to be in this with me, okay? Not acting like you’re not responsible for anything because I made the decision.” He releases Ryan and settles back next to him. “We’ve managed to tell each other when something’s not working for the last fifteen years. I think we can keep doing it now.”

They’re quiet for a moment, watching the people stream in and out of the room. He can feel the warmth of Spencer’s arm all along his side, and he wonders what exactly they’re doing here now, with the crowds of people closing in on them. It’s not the best place to work this out.

“Spence? I really think we need to move out of Jon’s place.”

_________________

Ryan thinks he’s starting to have a Pavlovian reaction to hotel rooms, probably some side effect of living on a bus all the time. The minute he gets into a hotel his brain clicks over into thinking that he has a newfound freedom to do what he wants. And after being in Jon’s apartment for that long, he’s kind of dazzled by the huge expanse of space. It’s been three weeks since he had Spencer laid out in front of him, with enough privacy to act on whatever they can come up with to do together.

Of course, he’d gone a good decade and a half before this without ever knowing what it was like to have Spencer on his knees in front of him, grasping for something to hold onto on the hotel bed while Ryan pounds into him. 

Spencer’s moaning now, lower and louder than his voice usually gets, and Ryan thinks he could do this forever, watching the muscles play under Spencer’s shoulders, counting the freckles on his back. His hips are pressed tight to Spencer’s ass and his chest is so close to Spencer’s back that he can feel every hitching breath Spencer makes. 

“Ryan, Ryan.” He’s gasping out the name and Ryan feels his hips snap involuntarily. He tries to hold back, but ends up trying to get even closer to Spencer, burying his face against Spencer’s sweaty skin. When he hears Spencer mumble, “Jesus, _harder_ , Ryan,” he can’t help but respond, pushing Spencer face down into the bed and fucking him so hard they stutter closer to the headboard. Spencer makes a small, wounded sound and comes, clenching around him. Ryan holds on for a few more moments before burying his face into the back of Spencer’s neck and arching against him, coming in a rush.

Spencer slumps against the bed, moaning faintly for a moment until they’re both calmer. He finally shoves Ryan to the side, and kicks him to get him off the bed. Ryan peels off the condom and goes to the bathroom to throw it away, stopping to stare at himself in the mirror for a moment. The only light is coming from outside the room, and Ryan’s caught for a moment, looking at himself in the shadows.

“Did you get lost? I can throw you a life preserver if you need it,” Spencer yells, and Ryan comes back into the room, dropping himself on top of Spencer, who grunts at him before moving around to let Ryan get comfortable.

He turns Ryan’s body, arranging him until they’re looking each other in the eye, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, this is as much talking about my feelings as you’re going to get, so pay attention.” 

Ryan tries to stay very quiet.

“I took you on a fucking _honeymoon_ , Ryan. I’ve been about as clear as I can be.” He smiles at Ryan and looks away before dragging his eyes back. “And I just want you to do the same. I promise you, this is honestly as easy as it looks. I wouldn’t let us do it if it there was a chance it wouldn’t work out.”

“But you can’t know —”

“I _do_ know. You know, too. Dude, I’m so used to following you wherever your crazy takes us that I don’t even think about it anymore, because I know it always works out. Just return the favor and trust me for once.” 

He looks at Ryan intently, and Ryan puts his head down against Spencer’s shoulder. They’re quiet for long seconds, and Ryan feels Spencer’s chest starting to move quicker against him, his breath shallower. It’s pretty much the opposite of how he wants this to go.

“Okay,” he finally mumbles against Spencer. “I can do that.” Spencer’s breath evens out, and Ryan lies on his chest, staying up and listening to him breathe long after Spencer’s fallen asleep.

_________________

He gets a call from Keltie when they’ve been in Chicago for two weeks, one of their regular attempts to check in and make sure everything’s okay with each other. It had taken him months after they broke up to realize that he missed her enough to make the effort, even though their relationship didn’t work out.

She tells him about her new show, and how he has to come and visit so he can see it. She’s carefully talking around something, and he figures she must have met someone: they both tend to be indirect about the subject of seeing new people, like they don’t know where the boundaries are yet. 

It just makes it harder to ask her what he wants to know. They’re friends now, yeah, but still, it’s weird. How do you ask your ex-girlfriend about your new boyfriend? She’s just finished telling him about an apparently still bitter Panic fan who’s been sending her hilarious and increasingly unhinged IMs when he broaches the topic.

“You can tell me about people you’re dating. You know that, right?”

“What the hell, Ryan?” He can hear the fondly bewildered tone she perfected during their relationship. She’s still the only person he knows who can pat him on the head and not make him want to snap at them. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He goes quiet for a few seconds, trying to find a graceful way to get out what he needs to say. There really is no graceful way. “When we were together, did I ever, I don’t know, talk about Spencer? Like, _talk_ about him?” 

She makes a confused “hmm?” sound, followed by a few tense moments of silence. Just when he’s about to say something, he has to move his head away from the phone to escape Keltie’s peals of laughter. Clearly this whole “you _can_ be friends with your ex-girlfriends” thing was a lie. 

When she stops laughing, she says, “Oh, sweetie. Did you hook up with Spencer?” He doesn’t really know how to respond, so he stays quiet. She’s still giggling, but she finally stops to take a breath. “What, do you want to know if I saw this coming?” He hums in agreement. “I’m not that shocked. But if you were hoping to tell yourself some grand romantic story about how you always knew he was the one, I’m going to have to burst your bubble on that. You were pretty focused on me when we were together.”

He stays quiet, waiting for her to say something else. He’s a little disappointed, actually. If you’re going to fall in love with your best friend, your other relationships should be, like, less satisfying somehow? In retrospect? But that’s really not the case. It would all make so much more sense if it were.

“I do have to say that I’m proud of us, though. Nothing says relationship closure like me helping you through your sexuality crisis.”

“It’s not a sexuality crisis. That’s not the problem.” He doesn’t know why he needs her to understand, he just really does.

Her voice is patient. “Then what’s the problem?”

He tells her the whole story, their road trip, going to see Jon and Brendon, and how he’s still feeling things out, getting used to the fact that this could still go so very wrong. 

“There’s not really any one problem. I just kind of needed to say it. Out loud, you know? It still feels a little too easy to be real.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you’re flipping out over something being easy.” He chokes back a laugh, but he concedes her point. “Seriously, maybe it’s just that you’re both standing still long enough to do this now.

“If you were the same person you were two years ago, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I’d be the inspiration for a few really angry songs, and you’d be even more guarded with whoever you dated next. But it’s different now, you’re different. If you fuck it up, the two of you can just try something else until it works. You just have to make the effort.” She sighs heavily into the phone, and he hopes he hasn’t gotten to the point where even she loses her patience with him. “Ryan, not everything has to be the ultimate tale of perfect, true love with the dramatic conflict followed by the big happy ending. Sometimes things are just plain easy. You don’t have to sell yourself a story about it.”

He’s uncomfortable suddenly, so he changes the subject. Thankfully, she knows him well enough to follow without asking questions, discussing her new show, and whether it’s really a good idea to shuttle Hobo back and forth across the country.

As they’re starting to wind down, running out of carefully casual small talk, Spencer comes back into the room, looking at him with a question in his eyes. He tells Keltie that he has to go, and ends the conversation.

Spencer sits next to him on the bed.

“Keltie?” he asks mildly.

“Yeah.” He leans into Spencer’s side then, and Spencer’s arm comes up around him.

“How’s she doing?”

“Fine.” He might as well open his mouth and see what tumbles out. “We should go to New York for her new show.”

Spencer moves his arm down to Ryan’s waist and squeezes, leaning closer to him and putting his nose into Ryan’s hair.

“Yeah. We should.”

_________________

They’ve gotten to the point in their half-assed writing where they might as well record something.

It’s more of an undertaking than Ryan would have expected, probably because they’ve never done it here, label-mates and people Jon knows dropping in all the time, far away from their home base. But Jon manages to find them a good practice space, just claustrophobic enough that it feels like the one in Vegas, and Ryan finds that he can’t really argue. Spencer, however, is not happy with the kit Jon managed to find for him, but considering how hard he plays, Ryan is fairly sure the kit’s owner will be just as upset. 

Halfway through one of Brendon and Jon’s songs, Ryan decides that it’s not sounding the way he wants it to. He thinks there should be more harmony, and maybe they should make it more complex so it actually feels like they’re pushing themselves. As this is clearly the best course of action, he decides to announce it loudly to the room. Brendon is predictably happy with it the way it is and Jon is staying out of it. Spencer looks annoyed, but he chimes in to agree with Ryan, sounding definitive.

Brendon stutters out a laugh before covering it with a stern look at Spencer. “What the hell? If I show you my dick will you agree with me, too?” They stare at each other for a moment, both of them looking like they’re about to burst into laughter.

Ryan is genuinely confused. “But Spencer always takes my side.”

Ryan looks at Spencer in time to see him roll his eyes at that and turn his head away, refusing to engage in the conversation.

Brendon comes closer to Spencer, edging around the drum kit to lay an arm over his shoulder, his face full of sympathy. “Are you going to let him take you for granted like that? Dude, grow a backbone.” Spencer slaps Brendon on the ass with a drumstick and Brendon yelps before moving farther away. “I was kind of hoping that you’d be wracked with guilt about disrupting the group dynamic. Cater to my needs for the sake of the band, Spence!”

Spencer ignores him and counts off, and they go back into the song. Later, after he has successfully argued his point (without any whining at all, really), Ryan eventually gets his harmony.

_________________

“Hey, tomorrow? Maybe we should kidnap Brendon for the night so that Cassie and Jon can have some actual alone time.” Ryan moves out of the way as Spencer leans over to spit out toothpaste in the sink. Ryan has a sudden memory of the way Spencer’s mom used to come into Spencer’s bathroom to check that their teeth were really clean before sending them to bed. It’s kind of an uncomfortable thing to be thinking about at the moment, though, what with there being 100% more nudity these days.

“Aren’t you magnanimous? This is just because you’re getting laid without a potential audience now, isn’t it?”

Ryan spits and rinses his mouth, smiling in the mirror at Spencer.

“I’m never having sex with you in public again, Spence. I’m sorry you’re a kinky freak and I’m not.” Spencer puts his toothbrush away and kisses Ryan on the side of his head, slapping Ryan’s ass hard as he passes on his way to the bed and laughing when he hears Ryan gasp and nearly choke on his toothbrush. 

He regains enough control to finish brushing his teeth and heads out to join Spencer, who makes grabby hands at him from the bed as soon as he comes out of the bathroom. It’s ridiculous and Ryan finds himself stepping back a moment to lean against the doorway to the bathroom and laugh. When he can stop, he goes to join Spencer in bed, turning off the light as he gets settled. He puts his head down on Spencer’s shoulder, the chest hair tickling his nose for a moment until he gets comfortably situated.

Spencer runs a hand through his hair, tugging for a moment like he just can’t help himself, and Ryan sighs against him, edging closer to sleep. 

“Spence? Hey, like, this? This whole thing? It was a good idea.” He burrows closer to Spencer, thankful for the dark.

Spencer lets his hand rest in Ryan’s hair for moment before starting to run his fingers through it again. When he speaks, he sounds slow, like he’s halfway to sleep already.

“Yeah. Best idea I’ve ever had.” His breath evens out, his chest rising and falling against Ryan’s and making him move along with Spencer’s rhythm.

Ryan lets the sound of Spencer’s inhale and exhale and the clench of his fingers in Ryan’s hair lull him to sleep, too.


End file.
